For a moment, Lucian intends to decline, to say something about how he's far too old for such things. But then he thinks of a time, centuries ago, and of the child that could have been. Would he have built snowmen with that child? Lucian wonders.

These thoughts go through his head in the space of a moment, and Lucian nods, a fleeting but genuine smile appearing. "Very well," he says. "I didn't get your name. I'm Lucian."